


A Christmas Wish

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sex, Smut, Snow, abominable snowman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Calling in the Winchesters was the best decision but even they’re no match for the elements… or the Abominable Snowman.





	A Christmas Wish

_McCall, Idaho, The Shore Lodge, four days before Christmas_

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted, opening the door and smiling at both Winchester brothers, “Dean.”

“Y/N,” Dean grunted, nodding as you stepped back to allow them into your room. Sam trailed behind his brother, offering you a grin and warmth instantly swelled in your belly. “Couldn’t have picked a warmer hunt?”

“Dean,” Sam snapped, his expression turning to a frown as he scolded his brother. Dean simply shrugged and you stifled a laugh, closing the door on the chilly outside weather. “He’s grumpy ‘cause he doesn’t like driving Baby in the snow.”

“I wouldn’t have called if I thought I could handle it myself but -” you hissed and rolled your shoulders, looking around the room for your sweater, “you know how it goes. I’ll be another statistic if I try and get into those woods by myself.”

Sam’s hand was on your elbow suddenly and you turned sharply, feeling the warmth of his fingers seep through your baseball shirt. In his other hand, he held your sweater and you smiled, taking it from him.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“No problem.”

“Ah, no,” Dean interrupted, pointing between you, “this is not happening. This is not a thing I’m watching all weekend. We’re here to kill things. You two wanna make smoochies, do it on your time.”

Sam scoffed a little laugh, shaking his head and you shrugged, pulling your sweater on and snuggling down into it. “Dude, it’s not like we’re getting paid.” The look Dean gave his brother could have probably melted the snow outside but it shut Sam up.

“So, you guys wanna see what I’ve got so far? I’m pretty sure it’s a Wendigo but there’s a few things that don’t add up.” You moved toward the second bed in the room, covered with newspaper reports and witness sightings of the creature you were hunting. “For one, every single witness statement says this thing is big, white, and -”

“Fluffy?” Dean frowned at the first piece of paper he picked up and you nodded in response. “They actually said fluffy.”

“Uh-huh.”

Picking up the most recent case, you handed it to Sam. “So far, we’ve had three fatalities; one guy died of blunt head trauma, another drowned in his own blood after being found impaled on a tree and the other… he was clawed to death. One survivor, Dave Harris, lost a leg but he insists the thing wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.”

“It impaled a guy on a tree but it’s not tryin’a hurt anyone?” Dean deadpanned. “Sh’yeah, that’s a cover-story that’ll work.”

Sam leafed through the case file, sticking his bottom lip out. “Wendigo don’t usually leave their food alive.”

You shrugged. “Maybe this one is a fussy eater.” Dean chuckled, dropping the report back down onto the pile. “Either way, I spoke to a local ranger and these woods are frequently used for summer hiking, more for game hunting in the winter. All three of the fatalities were hunters, the regular kind and the guy who lost his leg is a middle-aged bird-watcher.”

“He’s gotta be the life of the party,” Dean quipped, “so what’s the plan?”

“It’s better if we head out in the morning.” Your eyes met Sam’s and Dean groaned in distaste. “What?”

“I’m getting my own room,” he snorted, pushing past you. “I am not sharing space with,” he waved his hands about as you tried not to giggle, “this.”

You shrugged, folding your arms over your chest. “And I was so hoping you’d stick around.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “I’m starting to think you could handle this fine, you just wanted to bang my brother.”

“Admit it, Dean,” you retorted, “you saw the titty bar on the way into town so don’t you assume I didn’t think of you in all this.” He lifted his chin defiantly, struggling for a comeback and finding nothing. You raised an eyebrow and he turned around, heading for the door. “Be back for 8am. We need to head out at dawn!”

His reply was barely audible and no sooner than the door was shut, Sam was on you, pulling you into his arms and stealing your breath away with a deep kiss.

“Fuck,” he breathed, parting when you tapped his chest, “I’ve missed you.” You gasped down a breath before he kissed you again, pushing you back toward the bed not covered in paper. “It was pointless putting your sweater on.”

“I didn’t think you’d jump me as soon as Dean left,” you giggled, pulling out of his arms to sit on the bed, “but I guess I underestimated just how much you missed me.” Your gaze dropped to the already prominent bulge in his pants.

Sam grinned wickedly. “Can’t help the effect you have on me,” he shrugged, leaning down and placing his hands either side of you, pushing you back onto the bed with another kiss that left you panting and grinding against him. “Fuck, would you get naked already?”

You laughed loudly, shaking your head. “I don’t see you whippin’ the goods out.”

His eyebrows wiggled and he shifted onto his knees, stripping off his overshirt and the t-shirt underneath and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. Even nearing forty, Sam was probably one of the finest male specimens you’d ever had the privilege of laying eyes on.

He stopped short of unbuckling his pants, raking his eyes over your body and waiting with expectation on his face. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you murmured, “did you need a hand?” Before Sam could stop you, your fingers were on his belt, pulling it free from the loops and he relaxed, watching you unfasten his pants and pull his cock free.

When your fingers wrapped around his erection, his head fell back, a hissed ‘fuck’ falling from his lips and you grinned, stroking him slowly.

“You’re still wearing too much,” he grunted, reaching forward to pull at your clothes.

“Don’t wanna get naked,” you pouted, leaning in to kitten lick the tip of his cock. Shifting on the bed, you sat cross-legged in front of him, amazed how much height he still had on you when he was on his knees. His cock throbbed in your hand and you shot him a wicked smile before sliding your lips over the tip.

“Well, I want you naked,” Sam gasped, grabbing your head, “and you’re trying to distract me.” He pulled you off with a wet pop, ignoring your whined protest.

“It’s cold.”

“And? You don’t see me complaining.”

“You’re bigger,” you complained, clutching his hands as they pawed at your chest, “Sam!”

“Naked, now,” he ordered, capturing your mouth in an almost-chaste kiss, “and I’ll warm you up.” You whined with irritation but put up no resistance as Sam pulled your sweater over your head, taking your t-shirt with it, tossing both items of clothing to the floor. Covering your body with his, Sam tugged you underneath the covers, barely breaking from the kisses while he undressed you and kicked off his own pants.

His skin was warm against yours and you pressed closer, needing him everywhere. Sam slid one hand between your thighs, finding you already wet and he groaned, sinking two fingers inside you.

“Did you prep for me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and you shrugged shyly.

“I always have to prep for you,” you gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he thrust his fingers slowly into your channel, seeking out your sweet spot. “Fuck, Sam -”

“I’m gettin’ there,” Sam replied playfully; your irritated growl was swamped by a cry as he twisted his hand and found what he was looking for. His fingers massaged your g-spot until you were almost sobbing, clenching tightly around his digits and digging your nails into his shoulders. “That’s what I wanted,” he purred, withdrawing.

The sound you made was somewhere between a gargle and a shriek as Sam lined up with your soaked hole and pressed in, inch by inch, groaning at the tightness of your body around his thick shaft. You clung to him, barely able to keep your eyes open as he pulled his hips back a little before pushing again, sinking another few inches of his cock into you.

“Gah!” you whimpered, pulling him down into a kiss that was meant to silence your scream. Sam took the opportunity to fill you completely, penetrating you until your pussy lips brushed against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

His thick arms wound around your waist and shoulders, lifting you easily into his lap and you whined, squirming as he positioned you where he wanted you.

“Fuck, Sam, so deep…”

An answering growl made you gasp and tighten around him - the simple flex made Sam’s cock throb and he cupped your ass with one hand, using the other to grab the back of your head and hold you steady. “Now,” he murmured, “I’m gonna fuck you.”

You didn’t have a chance to say no - not that you would. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you moved with him, stealing slow lazy kisses from his swollen lips as he lifted you in his lap, letting you feel the whole length of his cock as he withdrew and slammed back in.

Seven weeks apart had left Sam with little in the way of stamina and you came with him when he held you down on his dick, pumping deep inside you with his mouth buried against your throat. You were breathless, swept away but the suddenness of your love-making - if you could call it that. Granted, Sam could be slow and gentle but you were always greedy for the bruises and the way he could make you scream.

“Damn,” he groaned, peeling away from your sweaty skin, cupping your face as he grinned at you, “guess I really did miss you.”

With a giggle, you climbed off of him, wincing as his still half-hard cock slipped from your body, leaving a sticky trail of cum in its wake. Sam grunted, reaching for his boxers. “Shower?” you suggested, stopping by the bathroom door and looking back at him.

He followed you, wearing nothing but a grin.

*****

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Dean shivered, lagging behind you and Sam as you trekked up the well-worn path into the mountains. “Who’s idea was this again?”

Sam smiled, glancing over at you just in time to see you roll your eyes. All three of you were bundled up in more layers than even a Winchester was used to; the temperature when you’d left the ranger station just after dawn had been around twenty degrees and dropping - the ranger had warned of snow drifts and a fresh storm heading in from the east.

The brothers were confident they could find this thing and kill it but you weren’t so sure. None of you were accustomed to this sort of weather and if Dean was already complaining just before lunchtime, it was going to be a long day.

“How far did they say the first attack site was?” Sam asked, glancing up at the darkening sky. “I don’t like the look of that sky.”

“Maybe we should turn back,” Dean suggested. “There isn’t gonna be anyone out and about in this.”

You nibbled your bottom lip, wincing when it split in the cold air. Sam’s nose was bright red, his cheeks the same shade underneath the scarf and hat he wore. “It’s about another mile or two. We should make it there and back in an hour or so.”

The wind picked up and a snow flurry fell across the path, coating all three of you in fine white powder. Dean spluttered and grunted in displeasure. “I really think we should go back. If this storm comes in like the ranger said -”

“Yeah,” you interrupted, “we should.” Your eyes cast skyward, just as the first flakes started to fall. “We probably should have already.” Wind whipped at your skin, lashing it with icy spikes and you shuddered, not resisting when Sam pulled you into his side, looking back at his brother.

“C’mon. We’ll have to wait. Hopefully the rangers will be able to keep anyone off of the mountains for now.”

A siren sounded from miles away and you frowned, following Sam along the icy ground. “That doesn’t sound good,” you whispered. Thunder followed the siren and Dean scowled.

“We need to go.”

Trudging back in the opposite direction, your spirits fell further and further as the sky turned black and thick snow began to fall. The ground grew icier and more treacherous by the minute and after an hour, you were struggling to keep up with Sam, who desperately clung to your jacket.

Dean was a few metres ahead but the blizzard had whipped up to whiteout standards. “We’ve gotta find somewhere to shelter!” he yelled. “These are huntin’ woods, right? So there’s gotta be someplace round here -”

Deep rumbling interrupted him and all three of you turned, spotting the huge beast lumbering toward you. “Run!” Sam screamed, grabbing your arm and dragging you along toward Dean. The elder Winchester stumbled and fell and Sam reached for him, putting all of his weight into keeping you both upright.

“Sam!” you screeched, losing your grip on his hand as your glove came loose. Something caught your foot and you tumbled, cold invading every part of you as you rolled through the snow, barely hearing the boys shouting your name before your head hit a hard surface and everything went dark.

*****

Something warm was holding you but your head hurt like hell and opening your eyes felt like a chore. Instead, you let yourself float, vaguely registering the smell of wet dog. After what felt like hours, you were placed on something else; it wasn’t as warm as your previous position but it was soft on your aching bones.

Eventually, you managed to open your eyes, frowning when you saw the interior of a cave, a crackling fire in the middle. All around, there were bones of various small creatures and torn up rucksacks.

Had the Wendigo caught you?

The thing in the snow hadn’t looked much like a Wendigo. It had looked like -

“Oh, hey, you’re awake.”

Bigfoot.

If Bigfoot was eight-feet-tall with spiralling horns, the rest of him pure white fur. Later, you’d speculate that he looked like a cross between a wampa and Ludo from Labyrinth.

Right at that moment, you screamed.

The creature held his hands - paws? - up and you scrambled back on what you now realized was a mattress, old and moth-eaten but with surprisingly nice sheets. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He smiled, or tried at least. Rows of sharp yellowed teeth - oh, god, there was a feather sticking out from his gums - glinted in the firelight and you wondered if you’d soiled yourself with fright.

Honestly, pretty much everything was numb with either fear or cold.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. You got knocked out,” the creature kept talking - why was it talking? - as if he was just a random guy, “and your friends lost you, so I brought you here until the storm passes.”

“Y - y - y -” Your teeth were chattering too much for you to respond and the Bigfoot did the creepy smile again.

“You’re frozen. Probably dehydrated too.” Turning away, he snagged a backpack, bringing it back towards you and dragging a blanket from the innards. “Here,” he murmured, draping it across your shoulders. “Move closer to the fire, it’ll warm you quick. Are you hungry?”

Managing to shake your head, you stayed exactly where you were, eyeing him warily.

“Um, I guess I should explain,” the thing said, scratching his huge head with one clawed hand/paw. “My name’s Bill. And I’m not a Bigfoot. I’m,” he sighed, “I was a man.”

Okay.

You weren’t expecting that.

“You - you’re a man,” you repeated, stuttering still with the cold.

Bill nodded. “Uh-huh. I think my wife’s sister is a witch.”

“Oh.” You paused, looking around. “And you saved me.” Bill nodded again, smiling more, and god, you wished he’d stop doing that. “Is it still -?”

“Hollerin’ a storm?” he asked and you swallowed with a slight nod. “‘Fraid so. It’ll be another couple of hours before they get a rescue team up here. I’m really sorry I frightened you.” Bill took a seat, squatting on a small rock that made his huge frame look clownish. “I’ve been trying to communicate with people but they keep, er, running away.”

“So… those deaths were all -”

“Accidents, I swear!” Bill rushed, his big yellow eyes wide. “I tried to stop them but…” He winched, shaking his head, the fur shedding lumps of ice and snow that had caught in the thick almost-dreads. “People get frightened and I don’t blame them.”

“But you can talk?” you stated. “Why not just ask someone for help?”

Bill scoffed at that, curling his upper lip. “Because it’s all shoot first, ask questions later.” He held out one arm and pointed to a fresh bullet wound scabbing over his white fur. “This was courtesy of Ranger Jones and I was a groomsman at his wedding!”

“How long have you been like this?”

He shrugged his big shoulders, pouting. “A few months maybe. I was lost for a long while and then I tried to go to the rangers and Jonesy shot at me so I hid up here, hoping I could find someone to help but… it’s Christmas and the weather is bad.” His huge face screwed up in dismay. “I miss my wife’s cooking.”

You narrowed your eyes, unsure what to make of the entire situation. “Why would your wife’s sister do this?”

“She thought I was having an affair,” he grunted, anger clear in his frightening eyes.

“W - were you?” The question was barely audible but Bill apparently had very good hearing.

“Everyone always assumes if a guy is working late, he’s banging his secretary. Well, my secretary was a great guy named Eric and I was actually working overtime to buy my wife a cruise for Christmas.” Bill scoffed in disgust, the sound actually quite frightening coming from between the rows of teeth. “But then, Charity never liked me.”

The conversation dropped stone dead and you stared at the fire, wondering if you’d actually died. This entire situation was completely unfathomable and you were apparently stuck for the night, bunking with the Abominable Snow-Bill.

“The storm should let up by morning,” Bill said, yawning with a literal roar and this time, you were fairly certain you were going to soil yourself. “There’s a bathroom just down that passage there,” he offered, “it’s rudimentary but it makes do.”

“Oh,” you whispered, “thanks.”

“Get some rest. It’s a long walk back to the ranger station. I’m kinda hoping if they see me with you, they won’t shoot me this time.”

You gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay. My friends… we’re hunters.” Bill gave you a surprised look. “Not… not Bambi,” you admitted, “more… Frankenstein.” His expression collapsed in dismay. “We were following up on the recent deaths -”

“Which were all accidents,” Bill defended and nodded.

“Anyway, we might know a witch who can help.” Your smile became a little stronger, just as your stomach growled. “Crap. My granola bars were in my bag.” Bill’s big toothy grin forced you to suppress a grimace and he grabbed yet another bag.

“This one has plenty of food. I’m going to get some sleep ready for tomorrow.” He paused, glancing at you with a curious look on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” you replied, surprising yourself by offering your hand. Bill stared at it like it might bite before hesitantly taking it in his huge paw. The pads of his palm and fingers were leathery, almost like you might imagine a gorilla’s would be but they were soft, not calloused. “It’s nice to meet you, Bill.”

*****

You woke shivering, feeling achy all over and for a moment, you’d forgotten where you’d spent the night. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, the battery running low - not that you had signal, you’d checked last night.

Bill was already up and cooking something over the fire. You didn’t want to know what it was so you fetched another granola bar, packing a few back into the bag with the intention of taking them with you. “How are you feeling?” Bill asked, offering you a bottle of water.

“Exhausted,” you admitted.

He frowned, pressing one big furry paw to your forehead. “You need a doctor,” he muttered, running his tongue over his long teeth, “which means we need to get moving. Can you walk?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, yawning widely.

“Well, just let me know if you need a break, okay?” It was funny, the way Bill’s monster-face was scrunched up in concern. You wondered briefly what he really looked like. “I found another pack with some warm long-johns and socks in. Might wanna think about bundling up.”

“What about you?”

Bill chuckled, gesturing to the thick fur covering him from head to foot. “I’ve adjusted.”

Outside the cavern, Idaho afforded you a beautiful view of the snow-covered valley, trees crowned in white with blue sky and cold winter sunshine beating down. Your entire body hurt and according to Bill, it was a three-mile hike just back to the main trail.

It only took a little while for you to feel worse. The snow was deep, too deep for your significantly shorter legs and Bill knew it would take far longer if you tried to walk the whole way.

“Jump on,” he instructed, dropping to his knees in front of you. “You can hold on to the fur, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?” You bit your lip as you tried to decide whether you actually wanted to ride the yeti and Bill patted his shoulder. “I’m quite heavy.”

“Yeah, okay. Because I’m not an eight-foot snow-monster,” he joked, tapping his shoulder again. “Trust me, you weigh nothing. And you’re my only hope and getting home again. So on you jump, missy.”

As terrifying as his appearance was, Bill was a genuinely nice… thing. He chatted as he walked, telling you about his wife, his dogs, his business - he was worried none of it would be left now. Before you knew it, the trail was in sight…

Along with two rescue vehicles and Sam and Dean.

“Those are my friends!” you said, excitedly, tugging on Bill’s fur. At the same moment, Sam turned, eyes wide with horror as he saw you on the back of the great beast lumbering toward him. “Lemme down, Bill, I’ll go explain it to them.”

Sam was already powering through the snow to reach you, pulling his gun just as you slipped from Bill’s shoulders and moved to put yourself between them.

“Sam!”

“Y/N!” He raised his gun and you shook your head, holding your hands out.

“No, Sam! He’s friendly! He saved me!” The stunned expression on Sam’s face was almost comical and you looked back at Bill, smiling at him reassuringly. “Sam, this is Bill. Bill, this is Sam.”

Bill held up a hand and waved with all five meaty finger claws. “Hello!”

Sam blinked, still loosely holding his gun in his hands, mouth slack in surprise. “That’s…”

“He’s not actually an Abominable Snowman,” you said, laughing nervously as you reached out to take the gun from Sam. “He was cursed. He thinks it was his sister-in-law.” Sam continued to gape, unsure what to make of the creature that towered over him. For his part, Bill looked nervous, like someone would shoot him any second.

“What the fuck?!” Dean called and you thrust a hand in his direction.

“Don’t! He saved me, he’s been cursed.”

Dean didn’t reach for his gun but the look on his face was apprehensive. “What did he do? Refuse to shelter an sorceress posing as an old lady?”

“I knew you watched Disney films,” you scolded, reaching out to cling to Sam. Your stomach was rolling and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead. “Shit, Sam, I don’t feel so good.”

“She needs a doctor,” Bill informed them, “I got her back as quickly as I could.”

“There’s a medic with the rangers,” Dean muttered, taking you from Sam’s hold. “Erm, I don’t mean to be rude but…”

Bill waved one of his huge arms. “Don’t worry about me, get her seen to. I’ll, er, wait somewhere. I guess.”

“No, he has to come with us,” you murmured, clinging to Dean, “he’s been cursed and we have to help him.” The edges of your vision blurred and you slumped, grunting in pain. Dean hoisted you up into his arms. “Dean…”

Sam frowned. “Get her back to the car and into town. I’m gonna head back with - Bill, is it?” Bill nodded his huge furry head, smiling his toothy smile and Sam smiled nervously back. “Yeah. Dean, you wanna?”

“Sure thing,” Dean agreed, more than happy not to be walking back, “just don’t eat him, okay?”

Bill looked positively offended by the suggestion and Sam laughed. “He’s kidding.”

*****

“You had me worried for a second there,” Sam chided, tucking you under his arm as he led you through the hospital parking lot. You smiled and slid your arm around his waist, holding on tightly. The injuries hadn’t been so bad - mostly bruises and a risk of hypothermia but you’d only had to spend two nights there.

Reaching the Impala, you saw Dean in the driver’s seat, waiting patiently. Before you could get in, Sam slipped his hand into yours.

“Listen,” he started, “I know we said this… thing between us was casual -”

“Sam -”

“No, please, lemme finish because if I don’t, I might never say it and I don’t wanna look back and -” He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “You’re amazing. You’re brave and badass but you still cry when you watch Brave.” You giggled, glancing away bashfully and Sam smiled, cupping your face to get you to look back at him. “You’re smart and sexy and funny and…”

He took a breath, leaning in closer.

“I nearly lost you out there and I don’t think I’ve been that scared before.”

“Sam Winchester,” you whispered, touching his face softly, dragging your thumb over his bottom lip, “are you telling me you want to go steady?”

Chuckling, Sam shook his head. “No. I’m asking you to come live with us at the bunker. Hunt with us.” His eyes darkened. “Stay with me.”

You hesitated, unsure of what he was proposing. Relationships between hunters ended one of two ways - bloody or angsty. Or both. While you enjoyed Sam’s company and the large perks that came with it, you were used to being on the road.

“I know it’s a big thing to ask,” he continued, nerves showing in his tone, “and I know you like being… free, so to speak. But I promise, I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Just say yes. Try it.”

His eyes were so earnest and sweet; you pushed up onto tiptoes and kissed him softly.

“I’ll come with you,” you murmured, smiling against his lips and Sam’s entire body vibrated with barely contained happiness. He swept you up, spinning you in the snow like some goddamn Hallmark movie moment but you couldn’t do anything except laugh.

When he dropped you, he kissed you again, hard, breaking away with a huge grin on his face. “I can’t wait to have you in my bed every night,” he purred, the promise in his words making your legs shake.

Someone cleared their throat and you turned away from Sam, frowning at the man stood in front of you holding a huge bunch of flowers and some chocolates. “Hello,” he greeted and you looked to Sam for confirmation of the stranger’s identity.

Sam gestured to the man with a smile. “Y/N, meet Bill. As he’s supposed to be.”

Bill grinned, his smile no longer terrifying. He was back to being an average guy, no more horns or fur. “Hi, Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you properly.” You took his hand when he offered it before he passed you the flowers and chocolate. “I didn’t know how else to thank you. I’ve always been rubbish at this sort of thing.”

“You saved my life, Bill,” you whispered, placing one hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Sam interjected, clapping the other man on the shoulder gratefully, “thank you.”

Bill ducked his head, smiling from ear to ear. “I wanted to catch you before you left town. My wife, Marie, she’d given me up for dead.”

“Was it your sister-in-law?” you asked, curious as Sam hadn’t told you much.

“Yes but she didn’t actually mean to turn me into an abominable snowman,” he explained, wringing his hands together. “I’m just grateful Sam and Dean didn’t have to kill her. And that you knew someone who could reverse the spell.” Bill shoved his hands in his pockets, chuckling nervously. “I never imagined magic was even real.”

“Well, say away from it,” you advised and he laughed again.

“I sure will. Thank you,” he met your eyes and then Sam’s, “thank you so much. You’ve given me my life back.”

You beamed, unsure what to say back to him and from across the lot, someone beeped a horn. Bill turned, waving at the culprit.

“I’d better go,” he said. “I wish you all the luck. And Merry Christmas!”

Bill turned and jogged toward the car, climbing into the passenger side and sharing a kiss with the woman in the driver’s seat. You clung to Sam’s arm, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I’m glad someone got their Christmas wish.”

Sam laughed, looking down at you as Bill and Marie drove away. “He’s not the only one,” he murmured, turning to kiss you again. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

 


End file.
